


Stay Outta Riverdale

by Invida



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 12:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2732507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Invida/pseuds/Invida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So a boy walks into a diner and orders a milkshake...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay Outta Riverdale

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Stay Outta Riverdale  
> Author: invida  
> Characters: Logan, Veronica, Richie  
> Rating: R for swears  
> Spoilers/Timeline: takes place during _Betty and Veronica_.  
>  Disclaimer: I know the law, and the law would win.
> 
> Originally posted elsewhere in June 2005.

If looks could kill, then he was surely going to die of laughter if he continued to hang around Veronica Mars. 

And hanging around Veronica was something Logan never expected to do again, and it was certainly not something he expected he would ever seek out. But here he was, sitting across from her in a diner booth with her eyes narrowed at him. He could still see the hard glint of blue daring him to say the wrong thing. He shook his head, trying not to grin. 

Veronica Mars: your very own Sam Spade for a price -- or not. She still hadn't asked him for a fee for services rendered, which made him anxious when he was around her. He wouldn't admit, even to himself, that paying her would effectively end any sort of professional relationship he had with her -- as professional as you could get when you were seventeen and supposed to hate each other. After that he'd just have to admit that they were friends again. 

What he did tell himself was that it was like waiting for the other shoe to drop. It had never occurred to him until just now that maybe she was waiting for the same thing.

The fucktard on her side of the booth droned on about his amazing dunking skills. She tried to look impressed but she kept sneaking glances over at Logan to make sure he was acting appropriately. After all, she didn't ask him to sit down with them.

Logan had been sitting in another booth just moments before, his fists rigid on the table on either side of the tall, frosty glass, steeling his nerve to take a first sip. He could feel the bile rising every time he leaned forward and breathed in the chocolaty aroma. Whenever he leaned back again, the table wobbled and the shake would slosh making the impossibly red cherry bob up and down on the whipped cream, like it was laughing at him each time he chickened out. 

Pussy, it said. You're going to let some milk and ice cream get the better of you? It, of course, had his father's voice.

Logan had felt childish ordering the milkshake and then silly that he was so nervous. He was relieved this diner was on the other side of town where no one would recognize him. He hadn't been able to drink one since his tenth birthday, the special day when his father bloodied his nose for spilling his shake in the car and his mother turned away trying not to see. His father has a different, cuter version of that story.

He reached forward and flicked the maraschino cherry. It shot through the air and hit the back of the seat on the other side of the booth with a satisfying splat. Then it ricocheted, hitting the table edge, then the seat, and finally landed on the floor by his foot. He stomped on it and ground it into the floor as he watched the whipped cream and chocolate run down the opposite seat. He briefly debated whether he should send the rest of the milkshake flying along with the cherry and decided that he didn't want to be thrown out of the diner. All he needed was a cover story in the local tabloid and another lesson in PR from his father.

Anger and impulsiveness -- wasn't that what the shrink said his problem was? No, wait. Those were a result of fear of losing control which made him sabotage himself creating a self-fulfilling prophesy. 

Logan had been under the impression that grief was his problem. Why else would he see a grief counsellor? Certainly not for the endless unwanted attention and questions from doting daddy about exactly what he told the balding, effeminately-voiced, know-it-all shrink. Not to worry, Pa-pa, he thought. He was a better actor than anyone ever gave him credit for and the therapist never suspected his supporting role as his father's personal punching bag. 

What he had to do, according to Mr. PhD-in-Bullshit, was to figure out what all the things were that scared him and take back that control. Which, even though he didn't buy any of that crap, was the reason why Logan was sitting here in front of a melting milkshake. Easier to control a milkshake than to face the real reason he wouldn't drink it.

What he wouldn't do for a _real_ drink right now.

That was about when he spotted her walking in the diner: Veronica Mars. Well, this was just his lucky day. His first narcissistic, paranoid thought was that she had been following him. But she hadn't spotted him yet, and he knew enough that if she was there for him, she'd be in his face by now. Besides, she was with other people.

And then he noticed the other kids' letter jackets: Pan High. Just what the hell was going on? She wasn’t arguing with them or threatening them which were her characteristic ways of dealing with others. Was she actually friends with these retards? She knew better than to incur the wrath of Neptune High by now. 

He watched a little while longer trying to figure out what was going on before he approached. It struck him as he watched her that three or four weeks ago, he wouldn't have just sat there making sure he understood the situation. He would have confronted her, throwing her new allegiance back at her and making her and those Pan jerks suffer. 

She still hadn't noticed him as minutes passed. Eventually the group dwindled down to just Veronica and Number 13 in the booth.

He watched as the oaf got up and went off to the washroom leaving Veronica alone, playing with a plate of fries. Impulse took over and he found himself slipping into the seat across from her.

"Of all the malt shops in all the world, fancy meeting you here."

She looked up from her plate in shock. She was positively stricken at the sight of him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm trying to ask you the same thing." He narrowed his eyes. "If I didn't know better, I would think you were stalking me."

"Get over yourself! I didn't even know you were here," she replied with her usual sharpness.

"I'm hurt. If it's not me, then could Veronica Mars really be here willingly with this Pan-trash?"

"I don't have time for your bullshit today, Logan. Just say whatever insulting thing you've got to say and go."

She didn't wait for him to reply, but turned to look back at the washroom door. "Look, will you just get out of here? You're going to blow my cover!" 

"Cover? You're on a case? What they hell did these guys do? Mailbox baseball? Hold up the candy store?"

"I can't talk about it. Not here. Just go!"

A voice interrupted them just as Veronica grabbed Logan's arm in a futile attempt to get him out of the booth. "Uh, is everything okay here, Betty?" 

Logan first looked up and glared at Number 13 with contempt, then looked back at Veronica with raised eyebrows. Betty? Oh, this was going to be good.

"Richie! You're back! Uh, this is an old friend of mine from Riverdale. Richie this is --" she paused, looking at Logan as if he could save her, but he remained silent, just looking back at her expectantly. Finally, she added, "Reggie. Reggie, this is Richie. He goes to my new school."

Logan hoped 'you've got to be fucking kidding me' was written all over his face. She set her jaw and glowered at him. Either she was trying to will him to behave the way she wanted, or she was challenging him to try her.

Richie stuck his hand in Logan's face and Logan had no choice but to shake it. Richie grasped his hand warmly and shook it enthusiastically. "Happy to meet any friend of Betty's."

"Yeah," Logan replied half-heartedly. "Same here."

Richie sat down beside Veronica, with his arm on the back of the booth behind her. Oh, he's smooth, Logan thought. Richie started talking about the upcoming game without even a thought to what they might have been discussing. Logan kept his eyes on Veronica, gauging her reactions and how effortlessly she made it look like she gave a shit about what Richie was saying. 

Suddenly Logan realized that Richie had been talking to him. "Sorry, dude, what was that?"

"So you knew Betty when she was Horny?"

Logan's hands suddenly clenched into fists. "Excuse me?" he asked intensely. Richie looked up at him in surprise.

He felt Veronica's hand on his arm, clutching him. "You remember, Reggie? When I was playing the mascot on the pep squad -- the Rhino -- Horny?"

Flustered, Logan retracted his arm from her grip. Anger and impulse. "Oh yeah. Right. Sorry. I -- uh -- forgot, you know, because the student counsel had been talking about changing the mascot. Did you hear about that, Betty?"

"No, Reggie. I hadn't." Her voice was strained.

"You should hear what they're thinking of changing it to -- a moose."

Logan felt a kick under the table. He was graceful enough not to give away the pain radiating where Veronica's toe connected.

Richie snorted oblivious to the looks Veronica and Logan were exchanging. "A moose? That's kinda dumb. Are there even any moose in SoCal?"

Logan turned away from Veronica's stare, giving Richie his fakest sincerity. "Gee, Richie. You're right. I sure wish you went to our school so you could set them straight."

He felt another kick -- sharper this time. "So Richie, what's your school's mascot?"

Richie looked away sadly, biting his lower lip. It was the gayest thing Logan had ever seen. "I'm sorry, did I say something?"

"Our mascot's a goat. And he went missing today," Veronica said accusingly. He wasn't sure if her tone was because he was messing with her and Richie, or if it was because maybe she thought he'd done it. It had been a while since she'd blamed him for anything. That's what a mourning period got you -- time off from Veronica's accusations.

Veronica patted Richie's arm. Logan watched Richie closely to see if this was some kind of ploy, but the dork really didn't look like he was trying to take advantage of Veronica this time.

Logan moved his leg strategically before he said, "Weird, Betty. Goat, rhino. You just can't seem to get away from horny beasts." He felt Veronica's foot sail past him and he grinned at her.

She glared at him and said, "I think you mean horn- _ed_."

"Hmmm. I'll have to get back to you on that. Speaking of coincidence, I heard that Neptune's mascot went missing too." 

Veronica's toe found his shin again, but this time only nudged him in warning. She might have followed through with another kick if Richie hadn't muttered, "Serves those pirate bastards right. Pardon my French." That got Veronica's full attention.

"Don't worry, Richie. 'Pirate' isn't a swear." Logan felt Veronica's warning toe again, but again she didn't kick. It was the most bizarre game of footsy he'd ever played. He looked over at her and he swore she was trying to suppress a smirk.

"No, that wasn't what I -- oooh, I get it. Funny guy!" Richie shook his finger at Logan and laughed noisily. "Sorry, man. I've been really bummed about our mascot. We've got the big game coming up, and he's sort of a lucky charm. But Betty here's done a great job of distracting me by letting me show her around." 

Richie's arm finally fell around Veronica's shoulder and he gave her a squeeze. He left his arm there as he continued talking. 

"Yeah, Betty'll do that," Logan said, watching for some sign from Veronica that Richie had overstepped his bounds. She didn't give him one and Logan felt the sudden need to leave before he found another way to get himself thrown out of the diner. 

"You know what? I -- uh -- I should get going. Let Betty spend some time getting to know her new friend."

Richie grinned. "Hey, man. Don't leave on my account!"

"Believe me. It's all on Betty's account." Logan stood up. "Betts, great seeing you again. Give me a call soon. We'll reminisce about your Horny days. Maybe we'll get the old gang together. You know, you, me, Veronica, Midge, Arch --"

Veronica interrupted clearly annoyed, "Yeah, Reggie. I'll call you for sure." When he didn't budge, she rolled her eyes and added with a little less edge, "Soon. I promise."

"Hey, dude, you should totally come out to the next game. You can watch us spank Neptune!" Richie put up his hand in Logan's face for a high-five. Logan looked pleadingly at Veronica, who was motioning him with her eyes for him to go through with it. He sighed, nodded and put his hand up. Richie slapped it eagerly. 

Logan saluted Veronica then turned on his heel and walked out of the diner, leaving her and his milkshake behind.

Before heading out the door, he heard Richie say, "Your friend's kinda weird." 

He stalked out into the parking lot, got into his SUV, and slammed the door. Well, that did not going according to plan. Hang on, what plan? He hadn't expected to see her and he wasn't part of this whacked scheme she had going. There was nothing stopping him from leaving and just forgetting about the whole incident.

But he knew he wasn't going to, and he slammed the heel of his palm down on the steering wheel in frustration. When the fuck did he start following Veronica Mars and her orders? When did he start trying to make sure she was okay?

Probably about the time she started making sure you were okay, his mind filled in for him. And there was a minefield he was not willing to venture into, except that his conscience was dragging him in, flailing like a petulant child.

He grudgingly had to admit that Veronica had been checking up on him ever since that night at the Sunset Regent. A call after he managed to untangle himself from her sympathetic embrace and get home. Another call from her the morning after the Total Eclipse dance where he'd made a drunken ass of himself. He'd answered those calls with perfunctory snarky answers. Then calls every couple of days when he didn't show up for school afterwards, but he didn't answer those. He'd listen to the occasional message she'd leave where she'd cagily ask him to call her if he was still alive. He figured she just wanted to get him on the phone to ask about her payment. But it did make him feel just a bit better that at least someone wanted to know that he was alive, even if it was Veronica.

He'd been staring at his phone, lost in thought. When it rang, it surprised him and he dropped it. He scrambled to pick it up, saw Veronica's name across the display and flipped it open.

"Where are you?"

Nice, he thought. Just as he'd been getting wistful about her, the disdain was back in her voice. He wasn't going to make that mistake again if that was the way she was going to be.

"Parking lot."

"You haven't left yet?" she asked sharply.

"Apparently not."

"Well, has Richie? He just walked out the door like a minute ago."

Logan checked the rearview mirror. Sure enough, there was Richie giving high fives to other Pan teens on his way out of the diner to his ugly Ford Taurus.

"I see him. He's pulling out now."

"Fine. I'll be right out."

Logan hopped out of the SUV and leaned against it and waited for Veronica to appear. When she did, the punch in the arm surprised him. 

"Good going!" 

"Ow!" She was small, but she packed a wallop when she wanted to. He rubbed his arm. "What the hell was that for?"

"For your little improvisation in there!"

"You already kicked me for that! Twice! Fuck!"

"Apparently, not hard enough!"

"Jesus-fucking-Christ, he didn't catch on. What the hell's the problem?"

"The problem is that you caught me off guard and I almost broke my cover."

"Believe me, that guy wouldn't catch on if you were wearing a T-shirt saying 'I'm Veronica Mars and I'm spying on you.'" A smirk was spreading across his face and the cocky words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "So you couldn't concentrate with me there, huh?"

He caught her fist before it connected again and wagged the index finger of his other hand at her. "Uh-uh-uh. That's not buddies." 

"We're not buddies, remember?" she said, yanking her hand away from his.

"Well, speaking of 'buddies' then, how do you think your little sidekick would feel about you hanging out with the enemy?"

"'Scuse me? Sidekick?" She crossed her arms impatiently.

"You know. The ballplayer? Gnarly dreads? About yea high?" Logan held his hand just above Veronica's head. 

"Oh!" Veronica suddenly cried out. She clasped her hands to her chest and did a clumsy pirouette. "Dear Diary, you'll never believe it! Today Logan Echolls finally noticed me! He said --oh wait --" Veronica suddenly stopped and put her finger to her mouth in deep thought. "Ohmigawd! It wasn't me at all! He noticed Wallace! Oh, what's a girl to do?"

She turned back to Logan, and glared at him. "I’m doing this for Wallace, Jackass."

He couldn't help a smirk at her performance. "Cute. So what's up with the deep cover? It doesn't look like it would be too hard to fool these jerks."

"Clemmons hired me to look into the disappearance of Polly."

"And you think those shitheads could organize a birdnapping? That's funny."

"No, what's funny is you getting bent out of shape when you thought Richie called me 'Horny'. What the hell's going on with you?"

"With me?" Logan asked, pointing to himself. "Do I really have to explain this to you? He's from Pan! He's an asshat!"

"Oh, so only asshats from Neptune can insult me?"

He shrugged, unable to meet her eyes. "Something like that."

She mercifully let it go. "Well, that asshat might have information I need and you almost fucked it up for me."

"Yeah. He looks like he's full of information."

She rolled her eyes. "Just lay off, okay? He's actually a nice guy."

He threw his arms up in frustration. "Fuck, Veronica! Are you blind? That guy is only after one thing."

"Funny. He said the same thing about you," she said with an obnoxious head tilt.

He snorted. "You're fucking hilarious."

She shrugged. "Yeah, well, you probably wouldn't think so if you heard what I had to tell Richie. You're lucky he doesn't know who you really are or your reputation would be besmirched."

"What the hell did you say?" God, please, she didn't tell them he was gay, did she?

She shook her head. "Trust me when I tell you that you don’t want to know." Fuck, she did.

"But what if I run into Richie again? I might give you away if you don't tell me what my backstory is."

She crossed her arms again and looked at him defiantly "Fine. You tell me what you're doing slumming it on this side of town, and I'll tell you what I told Richie."

"Deal."

"You're my ex. You're desperately trying to win me back." She gave him time to let that sink in. "Lucky thing he doesn't know anything about either of our reputations."

"That's it? Huh. First I'm your fiancé, now I'm your ex. Well, schnookums, that didn't take long."

"I'm glad it amuses you, but I'm keeping the ring."

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Of course, pawning it would probably get you further, especially on this side of the tracks." 

"So what are you doing on this side of the tracks anyway?" she asked, ignoring his comment.

"What you said," he replied. "Slumming it."

"Like that's going to fly with me. Don't forget that I know you. Your idea of slumming it is speaking politely to the help. Deal's a deal, Logan. Out with it."

He sighed loudly. "Fine. You're just gonna snoop around and find out anyway. After my performance at the dance, Clemmons convinced my dad to send me to a therapist -- shrink -- " his hand twirled in the air like he was grasping for the right word, "Grief counsellor -- whatever."

Veronica's mouth dropped open. "Seriously? A therapist? They're only just now thinking this is a good idea for you?"

"Shut up."

"If that's the best you can come up with, then you must be serious."

"Yeah, seriously bored. Such a fucking waste of time."

"Nice attitude. I can imagine what your sessions must be like. Let's see, judging by the side of town you're on," Veronica paused, surveying the neighbourhood, "I'd have to say you're seeing Dr. Dave."

Logan's eyes widened. "How the fuck did you know that?" Maybe she was following him around.

Veronica pointed to herself. "Every Thursday for six weeks."

That genuinely surprised him. "Wow. You actually made it through six weeks of that crap, huh?" There was something wrong with trying to imagine Veronica sitting still and taking some new age psychobabble BS seriously, especially from Dr. Dave.

Veronica nodded. "But if you can believe it, I had a worse attitude. He's going to blame everything on your parents."

"But it _is_ their fault," he threw back.

"Yeah, but now someone your dad is paying is telling you that," she said, grinning.

He rubbed his chin in thought. "There is a certain appeal to that."

"You know, I'm not one to advocate the mental health profession, considering that guy did jackshit for me, but I think maybe you've got an opportunity here."

"What are you talking about?"

"You've got someone who's listening to what you have to say and taking you somewhat seriously. Maybe you shouldn't look at this as a complete waste of time."

"I'm not following you, Veronica. Didn't you just finish telling me you were the worst patient Dr Dave's had?"

"Look, I'm only going to say this once, okay? And then I will never bring it up again unless you do. You can do whatever you want with it."

Logan nodded at her slowly, waiting for her to continue.

"I heard what Trina said. At the Regent."

Logan stared hard at her. He could feel the sickening dread and anger starting to bubble into his throat. "And?" he demanded.

Veronica held up her hands. "And, that's it."

Logan searched her face but she was no longer looking at him. She was intently looking at the pavement and kicking at a pebble. He'd wondered when she was going to finally bring this up. He'd hoped that she would just think that he and Trina were having a sibling spat, with exaggerated rivalry and mutual humiliations, nothing more. If this was the other shoe he was waiting for, it turned out to be a boot. But what he didn't expect from a revelation like this was that she'd just let it fall and let it stay there. No, if anything, he was expecting her to pick it up, dust it off, admire it, pull it on and gleefully kick his ass with it. He would have done it to her without hesitation. 

But as he watched her uncomfortably avoid his gaze, he understood that the point wasn't that she knew about his situation and could use it against him at anytime. The point was that she wouldn't, and it was up to him to do something about it, whatever it was he wanted to do.

"Okay then. That's it," he finally said, softly.

She looked up and nodded. He was relieved not to see pity in her eyes because if he had, there was no telling where his anger and impulsiveness were going to take him. Instead, he saw agreement and acceptance. In a way, that was more frightening.

But he wasn't given time to explore his new fear. He watched over Veronica's shoulder as the ugly Ford Taurus that left only moments before pulled back into the parking lot.

"So were you going to meet up with Richie again to investigate some more?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm pretty much done with that avenue."

Well, then, time to end this charade. He reached out for her waist. He hooked a finger in one of her belt loops and pulled her to him suddenly, startling her. Her hands pressed against his chest, trying to push him away. 

"What are you --" 

He cut her off by pressing his lips to her forehead, and felt some satisfaction in hearing her gasp as he did.

Before she could pull away, he whispered, "Don't look now. But three o'clock. Your new buddy is watching us."

She surprised him then. Instead of immediately pulling away and recoiling, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him into a hug resting her head against his chest so that she could see. 

He brought his arms up around her back and whispered into her hair, "See him?"

"Yep." 

He continued the act, pressing a kiss onto the crown of her head, unwillingly committing to memory the floral scent of her hair as he did. From the corner of his eye, he watched Richie pull back out of the parking spot and drive away again. 

As soon as Richie was gone again, Veronica extricated herself from Logan. "Thanks for that, I guess." 

"So I guess I've won you back, huh? Don't thank me. That's payback for the fiancé schtick you sprang on me."

"Well, then, we're even." She smirked and she walked back to her car.

Not by a long shot. He watched her drive away and wondered what Dr. Dave would have to say about where his anger and impulsiveness got him today.


End file.
